When Marge going to art classes at the prison, sees one of his students painted a picture where the sculpture of an angel comes to life and flies away. Marge asked to rate how you call the play, and the prisoner replied, "A Time to Kill." Uncomfortable, Marge tells him that the names tend to be somewhat difficult.
Well, that's the case of this posting. A couple of days I wanted to write this, I do not know why, and I can not think of any title.
When I have 7 or 8 years old I had surgery of the gallbladder in the Naval Hospital. We lived in Haedo in those years. The Navy is in front of Centennial Park, and lived a few blocks from my cousin Lorraine and her mother.
I do not remember why it was that my brothers and I stayed at the Lorraine that week that my father was interned by the operation. My father is a hell as a patient, when sick could rile up Indra Devi, dead and everything. I reckon that's why my mom had to stay with him every day, because that was the nurses or suffocated with a pillow while sleeping.
memory fails again because I do not remember where they were that day my brothers. The point is that what happened the day I want to tell me and Lauren were at home. I remember that I had been there to play the Family, was a tape that had the Circus, Bomberman, Adventure Island. And I remember we ate watching Garfield and I laughed, but Lorena told me "Why you laugh, if Garfield is a cartoon for larger people?". Now that I have almost 30 Garfield I still find a drawing for children 7 to 10 years.
finished lunch and washing dishes and wine Edgar, Lauren's boyfriend. In fact, I do not remember if the name was Edgardo, but suppose it is. It was the first time I saw him. I do not remember what he looked like, today is her husband and I still do not know what your face. They said they were going to buy something to drink tea and came back, I was playing the little games.
And they were. And
it was time for snack.
And it came.
And I began to worry.
And it was dark, and almost time for dinner.
And I was already a boy of 7 years crying thinking he was left alone locked in the house of a cousin who had seen only twice in life, he had no key out and had no phone.
And I thought, above all, they were gone and had forgotten me.
When I heard it again, and about 9 at night, I wiped my tears, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and turned on the Family as to who was playing just fine. I have no idea why, when I asked if he had been crying, I told them no, I poked the eyes.
Twenty years later, in a therapy session, my psychologist told him that every time a friend told me she was dating someone, immediately after an idea of \u200b\u200bjoy run over me and left me crippled, "will forget me, I will leave alone. "
In the weeks I was remembering what happened that day in the house of Lorraine and how, systematically, always the same idea back in the same situation. Now I learned to stop me, I learned that I am not a boy of 7 years locked in the apartment of a cousin unknown. The idea appears, always, but I discovered that I can go out to the balcony.
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